


Equilibrium

by FlutterFyre



Series: Symmetry [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Blanket Permission, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-08 03:50:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlutterFyre/pseuds/FlutterFyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Monday morning, MI6.</p><p>Do you know where your Quartermaster is?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Primus

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bound](https://archiveofourown.org/works/724757) by [BootsnBlossoms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BootsnBlossoms/pseuds/BootsnBlossoms), [Kryptaria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kryptaria/pseuds/Kryptaria). 



> This is my first tale in this fandom. It has been neither beta'd nor Brit-picked. All mistakes are mine. Please feel free to let me know if you see anything that should be corrected -- con-crit is always welcome! Thanks for reading!

“File transfer is complete, 007. Well done and no one had to die,” Q couldn’t resist a subtle dig after the unbelievable nightmare Bond’s last mission had turned into – three fatalities and 9 casualties, including Bond.

Bond huffed in Q’s ear. The Georgian debacle, as they had come to call it, had gone epically wrong in ways no one could have imagined. All the intel had been complete and accurate, save for the fact that the source of the intel had turned unexpectedly greedy and decided to sell it thrice again. The resulting crowd of foreign agents had converged at once, all determined to obtain the same data while preventing others from doing so.

Listening as Bond left this mark sleeping blissfully unaware in the distant tropical bungalow; Q could swear he heard waves crashing in the background. What he wouldn’t give to be on a beach in the Caribbean for the weekend – or better yet, the week. If it wasn’t for the flying, he might envy Bond just now. Well, the flying and ever-present possibility of things going pear-shaped and getting shot or worse.

Automatically, he shifted into post-mission mode and accessed the British Airways reservation system. It was a good thing the field agents and Double Os didn’t share his aversion to flying or Her Majesty’s work might never get done. “I have a seat reserved for you on the BA flight at 23:10. Please advise should you decide to take a different flight.”

“Thanks, Q.” Q could hear the smile in Bond’s voice at his light teasing. “Tempting though it may be to enjoy the locale, I think I’ll head back before I tempt fate here once Margo wakes up and Eduard returns home.”

“Missing the glory of London in April are you?” Q’s dry tone conveyed amused disbelief at the idea that Bond might actually make the flight he had booked. Surely something, or more accurately some _one_ , would prevent Bond’s return before Sunday at the earliest. He understood how agents’ libidos worked post-mission. The bookings were really more of guidelines after all, though Q doubted M agreed with that assessment.

“Just make sure to inform someone should your plans change and you are not able to return your equipment on Monday. Have a great weekend. Q out.”

Q removed his earpiece and stretched, glancing about the mostly deserted Q Branch. Only two techs remained this late, both part of the overnight shift in case of emergency. For a change, there were no active agents in the field requiring support now that 007’s mission was wrapped. Q was looking forward to a rare quiet weekend at home, pursuing some personal projects that had been teasing him for weeks. Now that the insanity of taking over the post of Quartermaster had eased, he finally had plans that didn’t revolve entirely around MI6. 

Shutting down his mission control systems and laptop and packing up the latter to take home, he shook his head. Not even six months as ‘Q’ and this – his new life – had become routine. And what an amazing routine to have; he smiled to himself as he shoved his arms into his parka and hoisted a leather messenger bag over his head to hang diagonally across his body. An R&D budget he was not funding personally. Relative freedom to hone skills that once had threatened to put him in prison. Regular interaction with seriously Alpha-type personalities whom _he_ was responsible for guiding to success and safety. Full access to the latest amazing technology. Seriously, it didn’t get much better.

Locking his office, he waved at the night staff as he exited, “Here’s to an uneventful weekend – unless you choose otherwise, of course!”

~~~~~

Friday night traffic was tapering off as the hour turned late. Q ducked his head against the chill, damp air and walked briskly out of the Tube station ten minutes from his flat. If he hurried, he might be able to get a last minute order for Indian takeaway. His stomach clearly approved of that plan and growled appreciatively. He picked up his pace; all thoughts banished save for the glory that was chicken tikka masala and saag paneer.

~~~~~

Alec Trevelyan, Agent 006, strolled into Q Branch bright and early – well, early for him – Monday morning. Technicians were scurrying about, working intently at the standing workbenches or typing furiously away at their computers. The mission control screens – as Alec had come to think of them – in the front of the lab were dark with no Quartermaster in sight. The door to Q’s office was closed; the access scanner panel lights blinking red to indicate it was locked from without. 

Alec double-checked the time on his mobile – half nine. Surely Q was around somewhere. In his experience so far, the youthful Quartermaster all but lived at Q Branch. Spotting a familiar face among the technicians, Alec approached and cleared his throat. The south Asian woman, one of Q’s senior techs who occasionally ran Double O missions, startled and spun around, dark eyes widening as she recognised Alec.

“006, what can I do for you?” Her hands fluttered briefly and then clasped at the base of her keyboard as she tried to smile in welcome.

“Ruksana, where’s the Quartermaster? I have equipment to return for a change.” All of it in fact. It was such a rare occurrence for him that he really did want to hand it over to the Quartermaster himself. Alec turned on the full force of his charm, only to have the technician’s expression falter. Dialing back the wattage, he pressed, “What is it?”

“Er, I haven’t seen Q today. Normally he’s the first to arrive and just about the last to leave, but when I got here at seven, he wasn’t here.”

Alec’s mouth tightened. “Has anyone seen him?”

Turning to her computer, Ruksana typed quickly, briefly, before looking back at Alec. “According to the building security logs, he’s not here. Looks like the last time his badge was read was when he left at 00:08 Saturday morning.” A few more impatient clicks and she frowned. “That’s odd. No indications that he logged in remotely over the weekend. He always logs in over the weekend. The man’s a workaholic.”

Hair rose on the back of Alec’s neck. Something was wrong. Very wrong. “Thanks,” he gritted out, turning abruptly to leave the way he had entered.

~~~~~

“I think something’s happened to Q.”

Tanner’s expression morphed from annoyance at Alec’s sudden intrusion in his office to concern as he registered Alec’s words. “What do you mean?” 

“I just came from Q Branch. Q’s not there.” Surprise flickered across Tanner’s face; the new Quartermaster’s standard office hours were notoriously long. He may have only held the position for five months, but he’d all but moved into Headquarters. “Ruksana, in Q Branch, checked the security and network logs and it seems Q left just after midnight Saturday morning and has not been online since.”

Punching a speed dial number on the desk phone, Tanner activated his speakerphone. After several rings, the call transferred to voicemail with the standard MI6 greeting. Tanner cut the connection without leaving a message; caller ID would indicate he had called. Pulling out his mobile, Tanner called what Alec guessed was Q’s personal mobile with apparently no more success. Tanner rose and was striding towards M’s office before he had even pocketed his phone. Alec followed.

A sharp knock with no delay and they entered M’s office to find 007 slouched in the chair across the desk from Mallory. Both men looked up as Tanner and Alec entered. Tanner didn’t mince words. “We have a situation, sir. Q’s missing.”


	2. Secundus

At Tanner’s words, both men sat at attention and focused fully on the newcomers. Bond met Alec’s gaze and his eyes narrowed at what he saw there.

“Details,” Mallory barked.

Tanner relayed the status he and Alec had put together, ending with, “Sir, I recommend we send a team to Q’s home to make certain he’s not somehow incapacitated there.”

Bond was instantly on his feet. “Sir, 006 and I will head over directly.” He glanced at Alec who nodded sharply in response. Without seeming to think about it, Bond reached under his jacket to where his Walther rested, confirming that he had yet to visit Q Branch that morning to return his equipment post-mission. Good, they were both armed.

“Notify us once you arrive regarding what you find. With any luck, he just overslept.” Mallory's voice lacked conviction.

Alec raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Mallory tilted his head in acknowledgement and continued in a weary and resigned tone. “Yeah, I don’t believe it either, but it sure as hell beats the alternative.”

~~~~~

Sitting in Bond’s car, both agents examined other cars on the street. There was no apparent surveillance set up in the area. Alec glanced at the windows of Q’s second floor flat before looking at Bond. “Plan?”

“I’ll go up first. Wait five minutes and join me.” Bond’s clipped tone did not invite discussion. Alec ignored it, as he looked at Q’s building.

“There’s no balcony. What? Do you expect someone to leap twelve meters out a window?” Scepticism bled from Alec’s voice. Bond had been intensely focused ever since hearing that Q’s whereabouts were unknown. Something about this just felt a little…off.

“I don’t know what I expect. I just know that if Q’s not up there, we have no bloody clue where he is or how long he’s been gone.” With that, Bond was out of the car and crossing the road.

Alec watched him disappear into the building before training his attention on the windows two floors up. That bad feeling that had haunted him since discovering the Quartermaster was not in Q Branch? It increased exponentially.

~~~~~

Five minutes later, Alec cautiously entered through the open door to Q’s flat. There was no evidence it had been forced, either recently or prior to Bond’s entrance. “Q? Bond?” he called softly. “Anything?”

A familiar irritated growl was the only response. Following its sound, Alec moved through a living room that was surprisingly uncluttered despite the presence of numerous books and electronic parts. Bookshelves lined the walls save for where a long work bench, similar to those found in Q Branch held court. He could see a small kitchen with a breakfast bar at the end of the room. To the right were two doors – a bedroom and a bath. Bond was in the bedroom. The Quartermaster was noticeably absent.

Bond stood mutely at the foot of the bed, looking around a Spartan room. The only furniture was a large bed, a bedside table and a tall dresser. No clothes were strewn about, no papers or clutter on any surface save for the empty electronics charging station on the bedside table. The only sign that the room was actually lived in was the unmade bed – pillows and bedding in disarray, duvet halfway on the floor along with a pillow. Alec couldn’t quite identify the emotion that flickered repeatedly at the edge of Bond’s expression.

“No Q.” Alec stated the obvious in an effort to get Bond to talk.

“He’s not here.” Bond’s voice was deep and harsh as he turned and stalked from the room. Seeing nothing that might indicate where the Quartermaster was, Alec followed, ducking into the bathroom to see if there was any sign of use but the pristine sink and shower stall were bone dry, towel and toothbrush with no evidence of recent use.

He emerged to find that Bond had been conducting a similar search of the living areas of the flat. “No indication that the bathroom’s been used in the past day at least,” Alec said.

“Same with the kitchen. Q’s parka and messenger bag with his work laptop are missing. The door was locked and security system armed when I came in. No sign of a struggle.”

Alec thought briefly about the scattered bedclothes and debated saying something but the look on Bond’s face stopped him.

“My bet is that he never made it home.” Bond looked like he wanted to hit something. Or someone.

Alec glanced around the entry way for the security system and saw a keypad and biometrics reader similar to what adorned Q’s office at Headquarters. It figured that Q would use a system he knew and trusted, but why did Bond have rights to disarm it? He shoved that thought aside for later consideration and pulled out his secure MI6 mobile.

“We need to get Q Branch involved – have them pull CCTV and Q’s Oyster Card records. Bank card, too.”

Bond nodded, “You get that moving. I’ll call M.”

~~~~~

It was probably a good thing there were no priority missions active, as the entirety of Q Branch was focused on Operation Where’s-the-Quartermaster. The energy was frenetic and it was clear to Alec just how beloved Q was by the urgency with which his minions scrambled to trace his path after leaving Headquarters early Saturday morning.

Q’s Oyster card had been used between Vauxhall and the stop nearest Q’s flat, indicating that Q at least made it that far before vanishing, so CCTV searches were focused on that part of London. Multiple feeds from CCTV were playing on the wall video panels. Alec, Bond, Tanner, and Mallory, as well as half of Q Branch, were scanning the videos intently, looking for some sign of the Quartermaster.

“Any luck tracing Q’s mobile?” Alec figured his question was a long shot, surely that had been the first thing Q Branch had done upon hearing of their missing leader. He was therefore unsurprised when Dennis, the senior tech working alongside Ruksana at Q’s elevated station responded immediately.

“Either it’s dead or turned off. We’ve been unable to get a signal from it.”

A sudden stillness from Ruksana alerted Alec to the possibility she had an idea. She undoubtedly was one of the most unassuming geniuses he had encountered here in Q Branch – apparently brilliant but cautious about bringing attention to herself. “What is it, Ruksana?”

“Q had one of the prototypes of the mobile we’ve been working on that allows for remote access of the backup and recovery functionality. Essentially there’s a back-up battery for the GPS and camera/microphone functionality that supports remote enablement. Because it can only be turned on remotely, rather than by default when the main battery dies, there’s less chance of the GPS running down the secondary battery before a fix can be acquired.

“The functionality is still very buggy but maybe it’s something we can use. Unfortunately the control software is only on two systems, Q’s laptop and the primary development system in Q’s office.” She waved a hand at the blinking red lights guarding the secured office.

Tanner had diverted his attention from the video streams partway through Ruksana’s speech and walked over to Q’s office, overriding the security system and opening the door, the motion-activated lights springing to life. “See what you can do.”

Wide-eyed, Ruksana, scurried off the platform and towards Q’s office, calling out to two other techs to assist her in a new effort to locate Q.

Alec was about to follow her when something on one of the screens caught Bond’s attention. “Wait! The screen top left. Rewind that.” Dennis complied. “There! At the far edge of the camera’s range. Is that Q?”

Sure enough, at the edge of the view was the lanky form of the Quartermaster, turning partway back towards the camera as though in response to something he had heard. A moment later, he turned back and stepped out of the camera’s range.

Mallory’s voice rang out authoritatively. “Alright, everyone, we need to know exactly where this camera puts him and when. Enhance that image; we need to determine if there was anyone in his immediate vicinity. And find the next camera in the area that might show him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and the show of support through Kudos and comments. Again, if you spot any mistakes, please let me know and I'm happy to fix them. Con-crit is always welcome! Neither beta'd nor Brit-picked, so I own all errors (and that's about all I can claim as my own!).


	3. Tertius

The basement was unfinished, unfurnished, and unheated. And far from comfortable. Q crouched with his back to the corner farthest from the door, considering his limited options and trying not to think about what the near future might hold. The floor felt like hard packed earth beneath his bare feet and he shivered at the chill it emanated.

Q had yet to meet his captors, which was both unnerving and a relief. He had been here for anywhere from several hours to a day and a half – he had no clue how long he had initially been unconscious after being dumped here. Q had awoken with a hellacious headache and a knot half the size of his fist behind his left ear. The last thing he could remember after leaving the Tube early Saturday morning was the eerie sensation that someone was watching him, but when he turned to look, the only person he had seen was a homeless figure digging through a skip in a nearby alley.

In addition to his shoes and socks, his glasses, parka, messenger bag, and everything in his pockets had been taken. His short-sightedness, combined with the darkness that permeated everything, had made exploring his prison challenging in the extreme.

The room was not terribly large but had no lighting apart from the strip of light that showed under the door and whatever daylight filtered through the small filthy windows snugged up along the low ceiling. In one corner, near the door, was a plastic bucket of presumably fresh water. Not that he had been willing to test that theory. He was thirsty but fear of drugs in the water kept him away. The opposite corner held an empty bucket he had been forced to use as a makeshift chamber pot.

A grumbling pang emanated from his stomach and Q bemoaned the Indian takeaway he didn’t get to eat. He rubbed his stomach and doubted that was the biggest problem he was facing. For once, Q wished that he had had plans for the weekend with someone – anyone – just someone who might have noticed his absence sooner rather than later. Monday was looking to be a long way off regardless of what day this was.

Because he had no weekend plans with actual humans and was not due back in the office until Monday, it would likely be that long before anyone realized he was missing. This was definitely the downside to being a loner. Presumably his absence would be discovered fairly early in the day as he tended be among the first to arrive each morning and not take time off. In the meantime, he needed to figure out who had him, what they wanted, and how _not_ to provide it – possibly while pretending to do. Given who he was and the knowledge and access he tended to have at his fingertips on any given day, it didn’t take a genius to realize he was well and truly fucked if MI6 did not find him and quickly.

Q flexed his hands and clenched them into fists repeatedly, looking at their deceptively fragile appearance. He hated feeling so bloody trapped. Or he could try to take matters into his own hands. He may be unarmed, but he was not helpless. At least he didn’t think he was.

He had taken more than the minimal self-defence courses required of executives at MI6. He sparred on occasion with various agents. Maybe he could channel his inner Bond. Really it just depended on how many captors there were and how well armed they might be. And how stupidly brave he felt.

He huffed his breath out sharply, making his fringe dance against his forehead. Bugger it all. He wasn’t a Double O. He wasn’t even a n00b field agent. He was an office-bound technophile. What the bloody hell was he thinking?

The sound of the door latch broke the interminable silence and ended his mental gymnastics. Q stood slowly, focusing his gaze as well as he could on the door, hoping to learn something – anything – that might aid his survival, if not his escape. With luck, maybe there would be no torture after all. And maybe if he looked out the window, he’d see pigs sailing past just above the horizon. Oh, who was he kidding…without his glasses he couldn’t even see a meter in front of his face clearly. He was just fucked.

Three figures entered; their features indistinguishable to Q at this distance, though it was rather apparent that the larger two were armed. The armed individuals stopped just inside the door, while the smaller one approached confidently and directed a torch at his face. “You’re awake finally.”

Already squinting into the painfully bright light, Q started at the sound of a woman’s voice. Beneath the dulcet tones was a thread of steel, reminding him of the old M. _Best not to underestimate this one._ He forced himself to relax his posture just the slightest before responding dryly, “I can hardly be blamed for how hard your thugs hit me upside the head.”

“Stop whinging. I recommend you learn some respect, boy. You can start by shutting that smart mouth, answering my questions, and doing what you are told.”

She was near enough that he could make out a blurry but fit thirty-something woman with dark hair scraped into a ponytail. She was slightly shorter than he and dressed all in black – BDUs, long-sleeved t-shirt, and combat boots. In another environment, he might have considered the combination of her looks and attitude of command attractive. As it was, he felt a twinge of recognition along with a vague unease that caused his natural snark levels to rise.

“Sounds like a set up for failure if you expect me to shut my mouth _and_ answer your questions at the same time.”

Q was not expecting the speed or force with which she backhanded him with the torch and his head bounced painfully off the wall behind him even as his cheek and jaw exploded in pain. The sharp metallic taste of blood told him the inside of his cheek had split against his teeth. _About that underestimating thing_ , his brain dully reminded him as he slowly moved his jaw. Everything still seemed intact, so that was good at least.

“Nothing else to say?” Her eyes narrowed as she dared him to say something.

Not taking his eyes off her, Q slowly shook his head. He could learn; he was a genius after all.

“No? Maybe you really are a genius after all. Good. I have a task for you. As I understand, you are one of the most skilled hackers in the world.”

Q froze. Hacker? Not MI6? Surely they had found his MI6 identification badge? But wait, it only had his photo and ID number – no name, title, or organisation. Was it possible that this was about his admittedly questionable past and had nothing to do with his position as Quartermaster of MI6? If only he could be so lucky, he might get out alive. Maybe.

“I need you to access some very important systems. Success and you don’t die. I’ll bet you can figure the price of failure all on your own.”

Turning on her heel, she headed for the door, not wrong in trusting the armed thugs to discourage foolishness on Q’s part. Before she exited, she turned back, her voice low and frigid. “Maybe another day without food will do something about that attitude of yours. If not, I’ll be sure to address it tomorrow.” She paused. “You only need two fingers to type, right?”

Q suppressed a shiver that ran up his spine at her words. Buggering fuck. Regardless of whether they wanted just a hacker or the MI6 Quartermaster, he needed to get the hell out of here before things really got physical. The part of his brain that was not determined not to babble in fear wondered pathetically, _MI6, where are you?_

~~~~~

There was nothing remotely exciting or sexy about watching coding and debugging activities. Alec stifled a yawn and raised his disposable coffee cup only to find it needed refilling. Ruksana and the Q Branch minions were huddled excitedly around Q’s R and D computer, the excitement beginning to buzz off them in waves. Please, Alec thought, let them have remotely accessed Q’s mobile and be on the verge of announcing a breakthrough on locating Q.

They had been at it for 3 hours. At this point, Q’s mobile was the only active game in town. The CCTV search had died a violent death at the discovery that the next two cameras along Q’s route had been severely disabled. With bullets. A survey of remaining cameras in the area during a thirty minute window of the last Q sighting had identified not even a dozen suspicious vehicles. Those possibilities had quickly been narrowed first to five and then to three. Unfortunately all three remaining vehicles had left London in different directions before nightfall on Saturday. Q could have been in any of them. Or none even.

Attempts were being made to track the three vehicles to their final destinations, but once they left the A roads, camera support became challenging at best. The best Q Branch tracker was the missing Quartermaster himself, so progress was slower than anyone wanted.

Bond’s reaction to that news didn’t bear repeating and he was sitting sentinel over Dennis as the man tried to find some useable trace of Q. Alec didn’t doubt that Bond’s brooding presence was likely hurting more than it helped. Bond’s dark moods had been known to make even Alec uneasy in the past and this may well be the worst Alec had seen.

That was precisely why Alec was the agent observing the group in Q’s office. As near as Alec could tell, this effort was the one most likely to locate the Quartermaster, so best not have Bond openly intimidating the worker-bees. Ruksana may be brilliant, but unless she was physically separated from the agents and connected to them via an earpiece, she was the most timid tech Alec had ever encountered.

A soft cry from Ruksana had Alec moving to the group crowded at Q’s desk. “What is it?”

“We’ve accessed his phone.” Ruksana didn’t look up from the screen, her fingers skipping rapidly across the keyboard. “Trying to enable the GPS now. If it works, it should ping back any minute.”

“Why wouldn’t it work?”

One of the other techs spoke up, “GPS depends on the receiver being able to access four different satellites in order to identify its location. If it cannot access four satellites, it cannot tell us where it is.”

“And if it can’t access the satellites? What happens then?”

“In that case, we wait until it does. All we can do is keep trying.” The tech’s empty hands rose, indicating helpless frustration at that scenario.

Alec narrowed his eyes and shifted his attention to glare at the screen everyone was watching. After a several tense minutes, the computer gave a loud chirp and a map application launched. Alec released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Is that it?”

“Yes!” Ruksana’s voice was a quick, exultant hiss; followed almost immediately by a more professional tone. “It looks like his phone is currently in the middle of nowhere out near Dorchester.”

“Can you transfer that display to one of the screens out there?” Alec turned and headed back out to the main lab, where a startled outcry was heard as the display changed abruptly on the main screen.

Striding quickly, Alec made his way to where Bond and Tanner stood with Dennis and his team on the elevated platform Q frequently worked at when running a field operation. Mallory was notably absent and Alec briefly wondered at the sort of executive crises Q’s disappearance would have brought about. He promptly dismissed those thoughts as not his concern. Tanner was here and would obtain any necessary approval for the next steps.

“Remote access of Q’s mobile worked. They located it outside Dorchester. Hopefully Q is nearby.” Alec announced with satisfaction.

Bond looked from the map on the screen to Alec to Tanner. “We’ll need a retrieval team.”


	4. Quartus

So Q wasn’t a field agent. That didn’t mean that he hadn’t guided dozens of them out situations even more problematic than the one he was currently in. He just needed to look at things like he would if he were on the other end of the communication line from one of his Double Os. Only without CCTV. Or satellite visuals. Or architectural blueprints. Or a computer. Or glasses.

Chewing his bottom lip in frustration, Q pushed back a sense of helplessness. He needed to concentrate. There was always a way out, hadn’t he learned that from dealing with the Double Os? Even when things seemed utterly hopeless, there were always options. They may not always be desirable options, but there were options. He just needed to learn what all of his were.

Further examination of the room he was in revealed nothing he did not already know. The closest things he had to weapons were the two plastic buckets and it didn’t seem likely that anyone would enter the room before morning anyway. Q inspected the metal – steel? – door. There was no knob or handle on this side. The hinges were on his side but without any tools he had no chance of removing them. Listening at the door told him nothing. If there was a guard on the other side, they were silent. Although with no way to open the door, the presence of a guard was actually irrelevant.

It was growing steadily darker as the afternoon progressed to evening and Q knew he would soon be entirely without light. He moved to the windows one by one, stretching up on tiptoe to push at the frames with his fingertips to see if there was any give. Surprisingly, the second one moved a couple of centimetres. Q’s breath caught and his pulse pounded. Surely it couldn’t be this easy.

He stretched and reached a little further, a cold draft rewarding his efforts, when a fierce cramp seized in the back of his thigh. Shit. Shit. Shit. Hissing and trying to massage the cramp out, he realised why his captors had taken his shoes and socks. If the size and positioning of the windows was not discouragement enough against trying to escape through them, the fact that it was likely 7 degrees out was a damned good incentive to stay put. Unless, of course, you were being threatened with torture.

Now he just needed to figure out how he would get the window open further and himself up and through it. As the shadows in basement deepened, Q decided to make do with the only resources he had available. He had to get out. He’d worry about dealing with the temperature once he was free.

Q dumped both buckets in front of the door; maybe someone would slip and fall in the mud. He then upended the buckets beneath the loosened window. For once thankful for his complete lack of bulk, he stepped onto the buckets, trying to distribute his weight fairly evenly and pressed steadily again the window, slowly pushing against the debris that had settled against the outside of the pane. The window scraped open centimetre by centimetre until there was no longer dirt and dead vegetation blocking the way and the window opened fully. The sun had started to set; the shadows outside matching those in the basement.

Mentally offering a quick prayer to whatever deity might watch over reformed hackers, technophiles and kidnapped Quartermasters, Q grabbed the edges of the window frame and pushed off the now crumpling buckets, scrambling up the wall to pull himself until his abdomen was hanging across the base of the window frame. He squirmed with adrenalin-fueled desperation to push, pull and kick himself through the narrow gap. Then he was free. He sat panting for a moment, each breath lightly frosting the air before remembering that he really needed to get the frack out of there.

Q clambered to his feet, looking for cover from which to decide where to go and what to do next. Without his glasses, the shades of darkness were fuzzier than normal however, what he could tell for certain was there were no man-made lights to be seen. Great, no sign of civilization – that seriously sucked. On a slightly better note, overcast skies hid both stars and moon, making the darkness more all the more intense and potentially giving him a sporting chance until dawn.

MI6 _would_ look for him, that he was sure – he was too valuable to leave compromised. He just needed to stay free and safe until they arrived. Hopefully tomorrow. The worry it might only be Saturday and not Sunday haunted him.

An area of deeper shadows called to him from about a hundred metres away, so he ran for it, leaving the farmhouse behind. Keeping his silence and his balance as his bare soles encountered rocks, sharp pieces of word and damp patches of grass wasn’t easy, but the promise of physical damage to his hands – or worse – from the dark haired bitch was weird combination of both carrot and stick.

Once amongst the trees, Q stopped and leaned forward, bracing his hands against his thighs and panting from adrenaline and exertion. He looked back towards the house. Even without his glasses he could make out lights through the windows. Given that only a few windows showed lights and no voices were carrying through the night, he felt relatively confident his escape was unnoticed so far. Part of him – that primal desire to survive – wanted to keep running and put as much distance between him and his captors as he could. A more rational part of his brain reminded him that there were valid reasons for staying put for the night.

For starters, it was dark as sin and his vision was seriously compromised without his glasses. Add to that he had no shoes and his feet were already throbbing from the beating they had taken running for cover – unable to see where he was going, he was likely to break a foot, ankle or worse – the ground was damned uneven and rocks and vegetation sprouted erratically stubbing toes and bruising shins. Finally, his phone, tablet and MI6 laptop were all still with his former captors. True enough, all were heavily encrypted, but he knew that given enough time, opportunity and skill, any code could be cracked. If his tech fell into the wrong hands, the results could best be termed extremely bad. He needed to be sure when the MI6 retrieval team arrived; they reacquired his tech as well as him.

Q shivered from the cold, grateful that he at least still had his cardigan in addition to his shirt. He needed to figure out where and how he was going to stay free and safe until MI6 could find him. Cautiously, he moved further into the trees. He would just huddle down at the base of a tree for the remainder of the night and find better concealment once the sun started to rise. Tucking his feet beneath him in an effort to warm them, Q settled in for a long and uncomfortable night.

~~~~~

An MI6 retrieval team – complete with medical support – was en route to Dorset. Alec and Bond had not waited. Even as Ruksana was transferring the location coordinates to Alec’s phone, he and Bond were on their way to the MI6 car park.

As Alec sped west and south, chasing the late afternoon sun, he glanced from the road ahead to Bond in the passenger seat beside him. Bond’s right hand twitched periodically where it sat on his thigh and a muscle was jumping spasmodically in his jaw.

“You okay?”

Bond glared in response. “What do you think? God knows who has our Quartermaster or what they are doing to him.”

Alec sent him a sidelong glance to find that Bond was staring determinedly past the windscreen.

“You just seem rather… emotionally invested.”

Bond turned with a growl, “Damn it, Alec, he’s not a field agent.” Bond took a deep breath and held it a moment, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “They’ve already had Q for two days. We still don’t even know who ‘they’ are, much less what they want with him. How long is a boffin going to be able to hold out?”

Alec suspected that had Bond been driving, they may well have killed someone – or several someones – in his need to just _be_ there already. He wondered what the hell was driving Bond. Alec had been out of country during Skyfall – one of the many agents at risk of having his cover blown by Silva. He had heard the story of how Bond had essentially abducted M and headed for Scotland to lure Silva to Bond’s own turf. Alec wondered how Bond’s state of mind then compared to now.

The mission reports he had seen indicated 007 to be ruthlessly calm and in control even as he returned to his childhood home in an effort to protect M from that lunatic Silva. The man in the seat beside him radiated cold ruthlessness, but was anything but calm.

Alec touched his ear, “Ruksana, any luck activating the camera or microphone to eavesdrop?”

“Not yet but we’re still working on it.” Her tone was apologetic.

“If you get it working, let us know. Regardless, we should be onsite in about an hour. Also, with night coming, is it possible to access any thermal imaging for the area?”

“We’ll see what we can do, 006.”

“Thanks, Ruksana. 006 out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading and the show of support through Kudos and comments. Again, if you spot any mistakes, please let me know and I'm happy to fix them. Con-crit is always welcome! Neither beta'd nor Brit-picked, so I own all errors (and that's about all I can claim as my own!).


	5. Quintus

As they entered the Dorset countryside, Alec could sense the tightly leashed agitation in Bond like a third passenger in the car. Back at HQ, he had been surprised when Bond had told Tanner they needed a full retrieval team. The way Bond had been acting, Alec had almost expected Bond to head after Q on his own, or at most with Alec as back-up. It was part of why he had insisted on driving.

Alec held no illusions regarding what might be happening to the Quartermaster. The likelihood of torture was painfully high – it really depended on the goals and schedule of those who had taken him. Bond knew this as well as he did and the knowledge was clearly haunting him.

“Do you think they’ll start small or large?” Bond asked. Would Q lose a body part or just bleed? Would the initial focus be on fear and psychological torment or would his captors go directly for the money shot?

“Does it really matter?” Alec tugged at his right ear, fingers instinctively finding the multitude of notches that had been carved into the flesh and cartilage. Ascribing to the paper cut theory of pain; Alec’s own captors had once threatened to remove his ear millimetre by millimetre. The small scars remained more than a decade later. It was neither the first nor last time he had been tortured, though it was possibly the most memorable and creative. The creative ones were the most challenging to endure in his experience because they were impossible to anticipate. “Physical or mental, scars are scars and they don’t go away.”

Bond flinched, rubbing his sternum. “No, they don’t, do they?”

Alec figured this was as good a time as any to ask the question that had been dancing in the back of his mind since their visit to the Quartermaster’s flat. “So what’s going on with you and Q?”

Bond huffed softly and turned bleak ice blue eyes on him. “Would you believe I have no bloody idea?”

~~~~~

Q watched the sunrise through bleary eyes. Nervous his escape would be noticed, he hadn’t really slept, just drifting off occasionally before jerking awake again as soon as a twig cracked or his head bobbed. With the arrival of daylight, he knew he needed to find some form of concealment in case his former captors started searching for him.

It was early still, but so far there had been no indication that his absence had been discovered. Of course with the loss of darkness, he had lost the ability to monitor activity via lights in the house. Unfortunately now he would likely miss anyone leaving the house on foot until it was too late. Hence the need to hide if at all possible. Q climbed to his feet, slowly shifting and stretching, hearing soft crackles and pops as muscles and tendons, stiff from cold and lack of use resettled into their natural positions. He leaned against the tree until his legs stopped protesting.

At least with daylight, he could now probably avoid breaking his neck as he moved deeper into the woods. Able to now see some obstacles, Q manoeuvred through the trees stepping gingerly around roots, stumps and fallen limbs, hissing in pain as rocks and smaller debris bit into his bare soles. In counterpoint to the pain in his feet, Q’s head throbbed with every step, every heartbeat. The rest of his body didn’t feel much better. Nothing to be done for it, he needed to keep going.

Between the physical activity and the sun overhead, Q had warmed considerably, the damp chill from the night before fading to a memory. The growling from his stomach had eased overnight, as if his stomach had given up on the idea that he was going to feed it. The need for liquid however, had increased with a sense of desperation and Q was haunted by thirst. Q knew he could last longer without food than liquid, therefore along with somewhere to hide, finding water had become a priority.

Using the sun’s position and hoping he was not traveling in circles, Q hiked as quickly as he could, which given the state of his feet, in all honesty was not very. He really could do with more calluses. From what he could tell, the stretch of woods was not very deep and was bordered on either side by fields. It was however long, so he stayed in the trees and moved along its length.

The whispering rush of running water caught his attention and called him to investigate. His curiosity was soon rewarded by the sparkle of sunlight splatters reflecting from the gently flowing water of what looked to be either a rather large stream or very small river. Q ran a dry tongue over equally dry lips and gave into the irresistible lure of wet water. Wet, quite possibly unsanitary, but certainly not drugged water.

Before he fully realised what he was doing, Q crouched at the water’s edge, scooping cold water in the cup of his hands to drink greedily. Thirst assuaged, he stood and squinted as he looked around. He didn’t want to go too far from the farmhouse – getting lost in the middle of nowhere was not the goal. He just needed to have somewhere to hide until MI6 arrived. Surely they were on their way to wherever ‘here’ was.

Spotting a tree that looked suitable, Q swung his arms, briskly rubbed his hands together, and hoped that tree climbing was like riding a bicycle or coding in binary.

~~~~~

Evening shadows were falling long by the time the retrieval team rendezvoused with Alec and Bond at an isolated farmhouse in rural Dorset. Broad fields stretched towards the horizon, the landscape broken by wooded areas, rural roads and the occasional motorway. Unsurprisingly, the next nearest house was miles away.

Bond and Alec had completed an initial reconnaissance, identifying at least six people inside the target house, but no sign of the missing Quartermaster. Perhaps he was being kept in some internal room with no windows. They retreated to where the retrieval team awaited. As darkness fell, lights in the house came on sporadically, shadows visibly moving past windows. They were huddled with the retrieval team a half mile away, finalising assault plans, when a soft voice spoke in Alec’s ear.

“006?”

“Ruksana, what do you have for me?” Alec stepped away from the others, so planning could continue without interruption.

“We’ve managed to further access Q’s phone, but the camera’s a no-go. It appears something is blocking the lenses. The mic is active though and giving us some interesting information. We have identified at least 4 distinct voices – three male and one female. All sound agitated. There seems to be a fair amount of dissension and internal conflict amongst those present. I can patch the signal through to you if it would be helpful. I must warn you though, there’s a good deal of ambient noise due to the fact that this is essentially via speakerphone.”

“Rather than my earwig, can you patch it to the retrieval teams command center radio so everyone can hear it?” Alec headed to the van to adjust the radio and call Bond and the team over to listen.

“Certainly. One moment please.”

“Thanks.”

The radio jumped to life. “— give a flying fuck. We need that access.” The voice was female, but hardly feminine, instead its tone was cold and harsh.

A biting male voice countered with, “Given that your brilliant plan has worked so fucking well so far, any thoughts on a plan B?”

“Plenty—” A dissonant crackling interrupted at that point as unidentifiable noises drowned out the speaker. “—and then I’m going to make the son of a bitch sorry he was ever born.”

Alec’s eyes went to Bond’s face. In the dim light from the back of the van, he noted the thinning of Bond’s mouth and the tightness around his eyes. He recognised that look. Bond’s control, tenuous all day, was a single thread from snapping. Alec reached over and turned down the radio. “Alright. It sounds like we are rapidly running out of time.

“Now there are only two external doors. We’ve determined there are no outside sentries, so surprise will be on our side provided we time this right.” Alec paused to take a breath.

“006.” Ruksana’s voice sounded again in his ear. “You say there’s no one outside, but thermal imaging indicates that someone is in the wooded area to the east of the house.”

Bond’s head jerked up, his eyes meeting Alec’s indicating that Ruksana had included him on her last transmission. Alec’s eyes narrowed at the thought of a sniper in the trees guarding the house. That could have been somewhat disastrous if they had moved in without knowing. He and Bond had been damned lucky in their reconnaissance.

Alec made a split-second decision. “I’ll take the sniper, you take the house.” _And Q_ , went unspoken.

Bond gave a single sharp nod of acknowledgement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! I am thrilled and humbled by the show of support through Kudos, comments, bookmarks and subscriptions. Again, if you spot any mistakes, please, please, please let me know and I'm happy to fix them. Con-crit is always welcome! Neither beta'd nor Brit-picked, so I own all errors (and that's about all I can claim as my own!).


	6. Sextus

It turned out that while the body might remember _how_ to climb a tree through muscle memory, those same muscles did not necessarily retain the physical strength to actually do so gracefully and without minor injury. But, hey, at least they weren’t major injuries and there were no witnesses, so there were positives to be had in the whole humiliating experience.

One thing that Q had decided as a result of this whole kidnapping and escape fiasco was that he needed to do something to improve his overall body strength. Okay, actually that was the second thing. First was that he needed to take some more training in self-defence and martial arts. That or he needed figure out some way to avoid being in a similar situation in the future without sacrificing what little freedom he still had outside of MI6. He probably needed to do that last regardless.

Perched halfway up a rather substantial oak, Q nursed a variety of scrapes to his arms and legs and bemoaned the fact that, not only were his trousers a complete loss, but his favorite cardigan as well. At least his hands, though tender and slightly abraded, were okay.

Thanks to the early state of the spring foliage, had he his glasses, he was confident he’d be able to see anyone who might approach from any angle. Instead, Q could roughly make out the now mostly fuzzy outlines of trees around him. He could also determine the extremely fuzzy edges of the house he had escaped from the night before. He would be vaguely able to see any vehicles that left or approached but little else until night fell once more. And even then, he was now far enough away that even lights in the house would not be much help.

As the sun passed its zenith, Q debated staying put versus returning back to the area where he had spent the previous night as it afforded a better view of the house and nearby activity. Q did not relish the prospect of another night outdoors, but the idea of keeping even a minimal eye on his former captors appealed. He wondered why more of an effort had not been made to locate and recapture him. If nothing else, he had expected some minimal search of the area, especially the trees where he hid, but from what he could tell…nothing had happened.

Then again, given the discussion about his reputation as a hacker, he doubted these were professionals – certainly not professionals like his Double Os. No, these people had to be from the past Q had thought he had left behind upon joining MI6. So what were they after? What did they want from him?

If they knew him from his hacking days, then surely they realized that he had no intention of engaging in electronic theft, or fraudulent or treasonous activities. That was not his MO and never had been. Q relished the challenge of seeing if he could slip past or overcome cyber security measures, but all he wanted was to go somewhere to verify that he could and then leave just as stealthily. It really didn’t matter if others knew he had accessed some network or database, all that mattered was that _he_ knew.

Indeed, until his stint as a sort of information-based Robin Hood, he had led a quiet and mostly unknown cyber-life. And even his ‘grey hat’ days had not been widely publicized – at least not regarding his identity. He had merely accessed information the public should know and shared or published it anonymously, so how did that bitch learn his iden—. _Oh! Oh. Well. Buggering hell._

~~~~~

Alec waited until Bond and the retrieval team finalized their plans before he headed for the trees and the apparent sniper hidden there. His job was to take out the sniper, eliminating that potential risk to Bond and the team as they stormed the house to rescue Q. Part of him wished he were going in with the team, but he recognised that either he or Bond was ideal to go after the sniper. Following their exchange on the drive down, he knew Bond needed to ascertain that Q was safe and whole. And if he was not, God help those responsible.

Moving silently through the dark, Alec noted that being a Double O had done nothing to impinge on skills learned in SBS. If anything, being a MI6 field agent had enhanced his ability to blend into any environment, be it corporate, criminal, political, or natural. He felt as comfortable moving amongst the trees as he felt traversing the halls at Vauxhall. A soft double click in his ear told him he was approaching his target. He tapped his earwig to indicate the message was received and slowed his pace, weapon in hand, eyes peering into the layers of darkness, seeking anything that moved or reflected the least amount of light.

~~~~~

Q knew he couldn’t stay where he was. He was confident that MI6 would come for him, and while he might feel safer the further he was from his kidnappers, he was effectively too blind to be able to tell when the team from MI6 arrived from this far away, because obviously, they would not arrive guns blazing. At least he didn’t expect they would. Presumably the goal would be to rescue him and that would likely involve some level of stealth. They could hardly know he had already rescued himself. In a manner of speaking, that was. Really he had accomplished little more than removing himself from the immediate vicinity of his captors. It was something.

In any event, he’d want to be closer in when the retrieval team arrived to…well, retrieve him. And his tech, he thought, uselessly reaching for his mobile for what must have been the dozenth time that day. He missed his mobile. And his tablet. And his laptop. He missed his warm flat and his comfortable bed, too, but having his mobile would greatly facilitate a return to both of those. Above all, he missed being able to see properly.

If he was going anywhere, he needed to get moving before the sun set; last night had taught him well that he didn’t want to travel through the dark. Remembering his problematic morning climb in vivid detail, Q carefully made his way down the tree, mostly by hugging the trunk and base of larger branches before finally dropping the last metre or so to the ground. He gasped as he landed; the uneven ground unforgiving to the bruised soles of his feet. He missed his shoes, too.

Q really hoped MI6 was on the way; this roughing it stuff was for the birds.

~~~~~

Alec was fewer than five metres from his target, perched partway up a tree, when a shrill screech – that frankly sounded reminiscent of someone being murdered – came from almost directly overhead. The target started and lurched, nearly falling, both arms flailing to grab branches or other handholds. That was when it hit Alec – the sniper was unarmed.

“Bloody owls.” The words were muttered in a low voice that was familiar. Very familiar. And very out of place in the arboreal heights above. Alec peered up, trying to make out more details than the shadows wanted to reveal. Intentionally he slid his foot through the winter-dried undergrowth, cracking branches and loudly crunching leaves.

The treed figure jerked again, frantic motions causing branches above rustle nearly as loudly as the leaves below.

Alec spoke then, his voice low and calm but firm. “Maybe you should climb back down here before you fall.”

There was a soft gasp and the figure began to slowly scoot back towards the trunk and carefully climb down without saying a word. Alec couldn’t see what happened, but halfway to the ground, there must have been a missed hand or foot hold and suddenly a body was falling through the darkness.

Unable to see clearly, he was surprised when what felt like a foot, or maybe an elbow, clocked him upside the head, knocking him down. His grunt of pain turned to irritation as he hit the ground and felt the earwig pop out of his ear.

~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in posting this -- it took awhile to get it 'right' (or as right as it's going to get. *grins*) Thanks again for reading! I am thrilled and humbled by the show of support through Kudos, comments, bookmarks and subscriptions. Again, if you spot any mistakes, please, please, please let me know and I'm happy to fix them. Con-crit is always welcome! I may opt to disagree with recommendations, but I promise to seriously consider all. Neither beta'd nor Brit-picked, so I own all errors (and that's about all I can claim as my own!).


	7. Septimus

Alec rolled to his feet, bouncing slightly off a nearby tree trunk before he straightened. The automatic reaction was far from graceful, but it was effective. Q, on the other hand, moaned as he slowly struggled to his hands and knees. Alec holstered his SIG – if needed, he could redraw it quickly enough – and crossed to Q.

Reaching down, he offered a hand to the bedraggled Quartermaster. Q grasped the proffered hand and pulled sharply. At the same time his other hand rose clenched in a fist to bounce off Alec’s jaw. Instinct flared at the attempt to pull him off-balance and Alec jerked his head to the side, ducking the full force of the blow. A flurry of poorly aimed punches flew at him as Q lunged to his feet and Alec realised that he was in full panic mode. Apparently Q had no clue who Alec was. There was only one way to fix this; unfortunately, it would start with immobilising and quite probably terrorizing the poor kid.

Easily dodging Q's wild swings, Alec melted back into the darkness surrounding them, not making a sound and leaving a disoriented Q flailing blindly, soft grunts of either determination or frustration or both inter-mixed with panting and gasps for breath.

Circling silently behind him, was a bit more challenging because Q wouldn’t stay still, constantly turning, trying to guard all sides in a darkness that was obviously impacting him far more than it was Alec.

Opportunity finally presented and Alec lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Q, trapping the younger man’s arms and pinning them against his body. For a brief moment, Q went feral, growling and thrashing about in an attempt to dislodge Alec. Then just as suddenly, Q went limp and still.

“Q?”

There was no response, but Alec didn’t loosen his hold. He knew his own strength and was skilled in applying it. He was confident he was not hurting the Quartermaster. He also understood just how intelligent the other man was. This was likely a ruse to get free.

“Q, it’s 006.” Speaking low but above a whisper to allow his voice to be recognised, Alec kept talking. “Trevelyan, Alec. We are here to rescue you. What were you doing in a tree?”

The MI6 genius took a long, slow breath as the words sunk in and, if possible, became even more lax in Alec’s embrace. “006. Oh, thank goodness.”

~~~~~

For a brief moment Q thought he was going to pass out from relief as he realised whose arms imprisoned him. 006. Alec Trevelyan. MI6 had come. He was safe. All the fear, all the pain and discomfort of the past few days faded behind the knowledge that he would soon be going home. Thank heavens.

He felt Alec’s arms loosen but they did not fall away entirely, instead his hands settled on Q’s hips, steadying him when Q swayed a bit. Another deep breath and Q thought he was ready to stand on his own once more. He stepped away and turned to face Alec. “You have no idea how positively giddy I am to see you.”

“The feeling is mutual, I assure you,” Alec grinned crookedly at him, teeth gleaming through the darkness. “I did not expect to find you up a tree though. Care to explain?”

“It’s a long story. Suffice to say that I thought I’d be safer out here than remaining a ‘valued guest’ back at the house.” Knowing Alec couldn't see, Q rolled his eyes anyway. “So how did you find me? And where’s the rest of the extraction team?”

“Good question.” There was a pause followed by a flash of light as the screen of Alec’s mobile lit up. Alec’s thumbs moved agilely, though not as quickly as Q’s might. It looked like he was typing a text, though if he was here with MI6, why wasn’t he using his earwig to speak with the others? A chill slid over Q, colder than the night air surrounding them, and he tensed. His heart, which had barely slowed, began to race once more. Was he going to have to try to outrun a bloody Double O?

He must have made a sound, because Alec glanced up from his phone. “Q?” The light from his mobile lit Alec’s face eerily from beneath, creating shadows and adding a sinister mien to the familiar and previously trustworthy agent.

Q started to back away, trying to calculate his odds and angles for escape. “Where’s,” his voice shook and he paused to try to stabilise it. “Where’s your earwig? Why aren’t you talking to the rest of the team?”

Alec must have recognised Q’s paranoia as he raised his hands to shoulder level, palms facing Q, the mobile’s screen now shining in Q’s general direction. His voice was once again low and soothing as he responded. “I was texting Q Branch. Remember that app you set up so that we could contact Q Branch if we lost our ear pieces in the field?”

“What happened to your earwig?” Q hated repeating himself when it came to the status of his tech. He especially hated it when he was overwhelmed with this much terror. The screen of the mobile timed out and went dark.

“Would you believe I lost it?” Alec’s question was light-hearted, as though losing tech was something that had never happened to him before. In truth, he was second only to 007.

“Really?” Q asked drily. “And how did you manage _this_ time?”

“It popped out when you hit me as you took the express route to the ground.”

Q flinched, more than a little embarrassed not only at essentially falling on top of a Double O agent, but at the idea that he had been instrumental in losing his precious tech. At the same time, he felt the tension in his body ease. Of course, with no earwig, Alec had no choice but to utilise the backup communication channel he had implemented for just such a scenario. The stress of the last few days was getting to him, that was all, and here he was, overreacting in ridiculous ways.

The mobile screen lit up once more and Alec read off the incoming text. “Everything is secured at the house. The team is rather alarmed to not find you there, but Q Branch has informed them that you’re with me. How are you, by the way? Are you up for some walking?”

Nodding and eager to be on his way, Q replied, “I’m fine. Please tell me you have a torch on you. Trust me, this ground is not ideal to traverse in the dark.”

Pocketing his mobile, Alec pulled out a mini torch, shining it at the ground and revealing Q’s filthy and cold bare feet. “Where are your shoes?”

“Good question.” More than ready to find out the answer and hasten the journey home, Q turned and started walking.

“Q.”

He stopped and glanced back at Alec, who motioned with the torch. “That way.”

“Right. Maybe you should lead. No glasses.”

“With your shoes?”

“One hopes.” Q gestured for Alec to go first. Alec did have the torch after all and the trees were hardly conducive to walking side by side. After days of enforced solitude, it was a relief to hear a friendly voice and be able to converse with someone other than himself. Besides, he really was curious as to how Alec had found him in the trees. “So, how did you find me out here?”

“To be honest, we didn’t know it was you. Heat signatures indicated someone was here in the trees overlooking the house. I was here to neutralise what we believed was a sniper guarding the exterior and approaches to the house.”

Q stumbled as Alec’s meaning sunk in. _Neutralise._ Bloody hell, that was close.

~~~~~

Alec and Q emerged from the dense woods at the edge of the property. Q was hobbling along slowly so Alec adjusted his pace to roughly match. As they crossed the edge of the field of light that spilled from the house, it was quite apparent serious bruises darkened the line of Q’s jaw and one cheek. A bloodied line extended several centimetres from the end of his left eyebrow. His normally pristine clothes were torn and stained with what looked like mud and dried blood. Q absolutely looked like hell, but a broad if exhausted smile blossomed on his face when he spotted Bond waiting just outside the house.

The sheer relief that crossed Bond’s expression as he saw the beleaguered Quartermaster was but a flash, but Alec saw and noted it. He could deny it all he wanted, but it was obvious to Alec his friend felt rather intensely towards the deceptively fragile-looking young man limping along beside Alec.

As they approached Bond, entering the brighter halo of light from the house, Alec slowed, allowing Q to move further ahead. Now there was better ambient light, Alec wanted to observe and get an idea of Q’s actual physical state.

Numerous additional smaller injuries were becoming apparent – cuts, bruises and abrasions, maybe even sprains given the pained way Q was walking, though that could well have been the result of running around barefoot, likely in the dark, based on Q’s earlier comment. To his non-medically trained eye, nothing looked serious, but Alec would feel better once the medical team looked Q over. Given the state Alec had expected to find the Quartermaster in following more than two days post-abduction, the man honestly looked like a bloody miracle.

Still smiling, Q hobbled to a stop a few metres from Bond, radiating worn-out relief. “007.”

Something in Bond appeared to snap. Without a word, Bond stalked over to stop in front of Q, insinuating himself into Q’s personal space as he grasped his shoulders and just stood there, holding the Quartermaster at arm’s length and staring intently. “What happened? Where have you been? We raided the house and you were gone and the bloody idiots inside had zero answers as to where.”

Q said nothing but there was no tension in his posture. In a distinct change in roles, Q appeared quite content to stand there smiling while he was berated by Bond.

“What are you still doing here?” Bond demanded, hours of worry making his voice sharp. “You escaped. Why didn’t you leave? Go for help? Contact someone?” _Let me know you were okay?_ The last went unsaid but was clearly heard by everyone present all the same. His hands shifted from Q’s shoulders to the sides of his head and he leaned in so that their faces were a hair’s breadth apart.

Q’s hands reached up to encircle Bond’s wrists, holding them but not pulling away or shifting backwards to escape Bond’s intensity. Alec was not sure what was going on, but he was starting to feel uncomfortably like a voyeur.

“I knew you’d get here sooner or later, though frankly, I thought it would be a _little_ sooner. What day is it anyways?”

Bond huffed at the gentle admonishment. “Given that no one even knew you were gone until this morning—”

Q covered Bond’s lips with his fingertips, interrupting him. “Monday then. I’m fine. I just wasn’t in any condition to try to hike anywhere once I escaped the house. I have nothing but what you see. They have my glasses, shoes and my bag with my laptop, tablet, and mobiles. Speaking of, has anyone seen my glasses?” Q glanced around half-blind. “I had no way to contact MI6 and no bloody clue as to where I am anyways. I knew you’d come for me. I just needed to stay safe until you got here.”

Alec moved away, offering the two some semblance of privacy as he stepped into the house to request the agents inside be on the lookout for Q’s glasses and shoes. Behind him, Q was still rambling on about his electronics.

“I couldn’t risk letting them get away with the tech. Even encrypted, in the wrong hands, that could be problematic. I had to stay nearby and keep an eye on it so that we could recover it.” Alec glanced back at Q’s tirade to find Q looking from Bond to Alec and back. “You did recover it, right?”

Turning back to the house, Alec added Q’s electronics to the list of items to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in posting this -- Real Life got in the way. Thanks again for reading! I am thrilled and humbled by the show of support through Kudos, comments, bookmarks and subscriptions. Again, if you spot any mistakes, please, please, please let me know and I'm happy to fix them. Con-crit is always welcome! I may opt to disagree with recommendations, but I promise to seriously consider all. Neither beta'd nor Brit-picked, so I own all errors (and that's about all I can claim as my own!).


	8. Octavus

“I’m fine. I just want to go home and sleep in my own bed. Is that too much to ask?”

Q knew he sounded petulant, but seriously, he had spent the past two days dreaming about being safe and warm and in _his own_ bed, not some random hospital bed in Medical at MI6. It was somewhere around midnight. After examining Q upon his arrival back at MI6, the doctors had announced they wanted him to remain overnight for observation, much to his dismay. At this point, he’d almost settle for a real bed anywhere that lacked the acrid smell of disinfectant. Scratch that, he wanted his bed. In his flat.

Frustrated, he glared at 007.

Bond was sitting in the ubiquitous guest chair. He seemed to be struggling to keep a smirk off his face as his voice dripped with a reasonableness his eyes lacked. “Q, you’ve been through an ordeal, they just want you overnight to be certain—”

Q huffed, cutting Bond off. “Not necessary.”

“Necessary. Q, you don’t—” This time Bond cut himself off and his hand tightened sharply on Q’s, interlaced fingers squeezing painfully for a brief second. There it was again. The fleeting glimpse of terror that vanished as quickly as it appeared.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Q reopened them and met Bond’s gaze steadily. Q raised an eyebrow and gave Bond’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “You know, 007, you’re presenting a double standard here. You never appreciate being stuck in Medical yourself.”

Bond shrugged one shoulder. “Sue me. Withhold exploding pens. Respond however you wish, just let the doctors do their thing. You have no idea the thoughts that went through my head all day...” Closing his eyes, agony flitted across Bond’s features as his voice trailed off. The almost emotions affording glimpses Q had rarely seen into Bond’s psyche.

When Bond reopened his eyes, all emotion was hidden by his usual stoic mask.

Vividly recalling their reunion earlier that night, Q was struck by intensity Bond had exhibited. Continued to exhibit even now. Curious. This was not what either of them had signed up for. Q’s brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of everything. He gestured with the hand that wasn’t still clutching Bond’s, waving it back and forth in the space between them. “What’s going on, 007? What’s this? With us?”

They were a Double O Agent and the Quartermaster – lethal partners in the field whose combined skills routinely brought the Queen’s enemies to their knees. They were colleagues. They were friends. And some benefits may have been involved. But that was a one-time situation, the result of post-mission stress release.

Heck, on Friday Q had been teasing Bond that he would find someone – presumably a gorgeous woman, though now Q knew men were not out of the picture – to shag instead of returning directly to MI6.

So what was this?

Bond had opened his mouth as if to answer when a sharp knock interrupted and the door swung open, Alec’s bold voice preceding him into the room.

“So how’s the self-rescuing boffin?”

Q frowned, both at the interruption and the teasing description. His eyes still on Bond, he didn’t miss the flash of relief that crossed the other man’s face at Alec’s appearance.

“Q here thinks he has a degree in medicine now and that he should be able to ignore the professionals and just go home.” Bond’s dry tone clearly conveyed his thoughts on that idea.

Alec stopped at the foot of Q’s bed and looked him over. His eyes narrowed as he looked from one man to the other before his gaze zeroed in on the still clasped hands resting among the folds of the bed clothes. The corner of his mouth twitched and he stared forcefully at Q.

“Given that you were abducted seventy-two hours ago, spent the night outside barefoot in 9 degree temperatures, and fell out of a tree, I think it’s perfectly reasonable for the doctors to require you spend one night here.” Alec smiled serenely, clearly remembering all the times that Q had ordered him to report to Medical upon returning from a mission.

A growl rose in the back of Q’s throat. He swallowed it down with difficulty, knowing that just as Bond would not be swayed, neither would his best friend. Alec raised his right hand, distracting Q with a takeaway bag.

“I thought you might be hungry.”

Q’s stomach grumbled loudly in response and Q couldn’t stay annoyed – the Double O had brought him _food_ and unless he was hallucinating from hunger, it smelled like—

“Chicken tikka masala. Ruksana said it’s your favourite.” Smiling, Alec deposited the bag on the rolling table and pushed it towards Q.

“Oh dear lord, I think I love you, 006.” Q tore into the bag, finding still warm naan and tearing off a piece to shove in his mouth. His eyes closed reflexively as he chewed and heard a moan he was afraid might have been his.

“Looks like the way to a man’s heart really is through his stomach.” Bond’s voice was amused and pulled Q’s attention back to the room. “Good to know.”

Finding the plastic cutlery, Q ignored the Double Os, instead occupying himself with the Indian food had had been craving for days. The medics earlier had pressed a protein bar and bottle of water on him, but this was his first real meal in what seemed like forever. His stomach had apparently shrunk though and he was not able to consume more than a few bites before he had to give up. Reluctantly, he closed the containers and set down the fork.

Alec grinned at his success in surprising Q and began packing the leftovers up. “I’ll just tuck this in the fridge down in Q Branch for your lunch later this week. Hopefully you will eat it?”

Feeling his face flush at the reminder that he often forgot such pedestrian activities when working, Q nodded and smiled at the agent, all previous animosity gone. “Thank you, 006. Truly.”

“In the meantime, James has something I think you might want…”

He turned to Bond who lifted his left arm to reveal a very familiar leather messenger bag.

Q gasped. “My tech! You found it!” He reached for the bag automatically and began to dig through its contents, verifying everything was present and accounted for. When he withdrew his hands, one clutched his mobile, the other his tablet. He cradled both to his chest. “Oh, thank you both so much! I was so worried those fools had lost or destroyed something. Some people have no respect for the beauty of technology.”

Belatedly realizing to whom he speaking, Q looked up at the two agents and gave them a wry grin. “But of course the two of you know nothing about that.”

“Nothing at all,” Bond stated baldly while Alec coughed to stifle a laugh.

~~~~~

Alec grinned indulgently. Going through his bag, Q looked like a child on Christmas. He was relieved the Quartermaster was safe and back at MI6. However, after witnessing Q’s obsession with reacquiring his tech despite all he’s been through – his sheer bloody-mindedness to keep the technology he was responsible for out of the wrong hands. Well—

Sighing internally, Alec knew his and Bond’s excuses for why they had lost tech were going to be less acceptable than ever.

He had yet to hear the full extent of Q’s adventures, having returned alone to London while Bond rode with Q and the medics back to MI6. Alec had stayed behind long enough to locate Q’s belongings and briefly question the abductors, all five of whom were being transported for further interrogation. From what little Alec had been able to ascertain, none of them – not even the woman who was apparently the supposed mastermind – had any clue Q worked at MI6, much less his role as Quartermaster.

The fact such amateurs had been able, not only to capture the Quartermaster, but to successfully smuggle him away from London and cause the entirety of MI6 to labour most of a day to even locate him was cause for concern. M was not going to be pleased about the implications. Like or not, Q was going to have to make some major changes regarding his personal safety.

Alec watched Bond watching Q and knew M would not be the only one displeased. Even if they weren’t acknowledging anything, whatever was going on between the two of them seemed quite mutual and was equally likely to drive changes in the Quartermaster’s safety routine. Bond was not one to disregard the safety of those he cared about. Not after Vesper. And especially not after M. He may be cavalier about his own safety, but not of those closest to him. Hell, the only reason he left Alec alone was Alec’s own Double O status.

Gathering the leftover takeaway, he slipped out of the room, leaving the two men alone. He’d talk to James after a quick visit to Q Branch. Maybe Ruksana was still around, though part of Alec hoped she had gone home to rest once Q had been returned to MI6. All of Q Branch had had a long and stressful day. Alec and Bond thrived on such days, but he knew most people didn’t.

~~~~~

“I’m so glad Alec didn’t neutralise me back in the forest.”

Bond flinched. “What?”

“Alec mentioned that he found me because he was there to ‘neutralise’ the suspected sniper guarding the house. I’m just glad Double Os look before they shoot.”

Shifting and looking darkly at the door through which Alec had disappeared, Bond cleared his throat. “So am I,” he muttered not quite under his breath.

Q squirmed in place. He knew they needed to talk but he really didn’t want to have to prompt Bond a second time. It felt rather like poking a wolf. Probably not an inaccurate comparison; Bond, like all Double Os, was a dangerous predator. Q didn’t fear Bond, if anything, he now felt safer physically around Bond than he had before. Rather it was that he felt uncomfortable about the potential emotional outcomes of this particular discussion.

He had read Bond’s file and knew tangentially about Vesper Lynd. From all reports, Bond was years recovering from her betrayal and loss. Q wasn’t sure he could handle being the focus of such intensity as Bond had displayed earlier that evening. That wasn’t what he had signed up for when he gave into Bond’s seduction following the debacle. No matter how delightful or intense the sex between them was, Bond didn’t _do_ relationships. Q knew that and regardless what he might wish, Q had no wish for an awkward working relationship when he required his agents to trust him with their lives.

Bond’s reaction earlier however merited some discussion, lest the awkwardness happen anyways.

“Back to my earlier question. I thought all we did was blow off some post-mission energy and yes, it was lovely, but that doesn’t explain your reaction tonight. So what’s going on?”

“I don’t have answers for you, Q. All I know is that ever since Alec and Tanner interrupted my debriefing with M to say you were missing, all I could think about was you.” With visible effort, Bond lowered his stoic mask and the fear and vulnerability was back, flickering intermittently as though uncomfortable with settling in place on his face. Q wasn’t sure how to respond.

“007, I know that apart from requesting that you return your equipment in acceptable condition, I have no claim on you outside of missions. I fully anticipated Friday after you finished your mission, you would take a detour and de-stress before returning to MI6.”

“Yeah…well…” Bond swallowed hard and didn’t say anything else, staring intently at the very blank wall across the room.

Sensing there was more Bond wasn’t saying, Q waited silently.

Bond’s posture straightened and he seemed to reach a decision as he took a deep breath. “I had every intention of engaging in post-mission stress release, as you put it.”

His gaze shifted abruptly and Q was captured, frozen by the intensity of Bond’s ice blue eyes. “There was just one problem – she wasn’t you.”

Q turned the hand that was closest to the agent palm up, inviting Bond’s touch once more.

After a moment’s hesitation, Bond reached out and took it. His fingers danced across Q’s palm and inner wrist before twisting to interlace with Q’s once more. His thumb stroked soothingly over the base of Q’s thumb.

“I got on the plane and flew back here and spent the weekend talking myself out of showing up on your doorstep.” Bond grimaced. “If only I had we might have discovered you were missing sooner.”

Q shook his head. “Don’t go there, Bond. All you would have found would have been no one was home but no idea if anything was actually wrong. MI6 found me in under twelve hours and that was without my help. I admit I’m impressed. I’m fine. Though the promise of some post-abduction stress relief might just be what your Quartermaster needs to settle down and behave for the night.”

Heat flashed in blue eyes at the invitation in Q’s words. Answering heat curled in his groin. Damn it he wanted nothing more than to pull Bond onto the bed with him but the last of his adrenaline had faded and exhaustion crashed over him like a giant wave.

He tried to leer in Bond’s direction and ended up stifling a yawn instead.

~~~~~

Alec returned to Q’s room to find the Quartermaster out cold and Bond sitting silent guard over the younger man. The crackling intensity that had sparked off Bond all day was gone. In its place was a peace Alec had not sensed in his friend for years. Good. Maybe they had talked things out.

Catching Bond’s eyes, Alec raised an eyebrow and tilted his head towards the corridor behind him.

Bond released Q hand and stood looking down at the Quartermaster for a long moment before combing his fingers the younger man’s thick dark hair. Leaning over, Bond pressed a kiss to Q’s forehead and murmured something indistinguishable in his ear before following Alec into the hallway.

Pulling the door not quite shut, Alec grinned. “So, I’m guessing you now have your bloody clue?”

“Something like that.” Bond sent a thoughful half-smile in Alec’s direction, but his gaze was restless, much like Alec’s. It had been a long day and for the duration they remained at MI6, or really anywhere outside of their homes, they were automatically ‘on’. Relaxation was something to indulge in _later_. “What did you learn?”

“Mostly that they had to be the luckiest damn kidnappers to walk the planet. They had no bloody clue Q’s with MI6, much less that he’s the Quartermaster. They were looking for a master-hacker the woman somehow knew from university.”

Bond’s attention ricocheted back to Alec. “You mean Q was abducted by—”

“A bunch of amateurs? Yeah. M’s going to be less than thrilled. My guess is that Q’s a bit of a creature of habit. Probably made him an easy target. Might be something to work on?”

Bond paced to the end of the admittedly short hall and returned, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. Alec noticed the tense expression on his face and decided that pointing out the obvious just might be advisable in this instance. Bond began the circuit again and Alec stepped in front of him, forcing him to halt.

“You know, Q can learn to be more observant and careful. He can learn the importance of varying his routes. You and I can teach him self-defence to augment the minimal training required by MI6. Clearly he has a well-developed sense of self-preservation – he escaped his kidnappers and hid not just in the woods but _up in the bloody trees_.”

Bond’s eyes narrowed, studying him.

Taking a breath, Alec ploughed into territory he had not trod since Bond had broken his nose more than two years prior.

“He isn’t Vesper, James. If you are going to try to make this – whatever it is – work, you’re going to have to not just accept that, but truly believe it.”

At Vesper’s name, Bond stiffened, lips thinning and hands flexing for a solid minute before he blew his breath out explosively and nodded jerkily. “You’re right, Alec.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Alec smirked. It was rare he heard those words from Bond.

“Fuck you, Alec. You heard me.” James mock glared, relaxing by slow increments. “Q isn’t Vesper. I trust him with my safety. I need to be able to trust him with his own. To a point. I reserve the right to step in when he is being foolish.”

Considering his point made, Alec shifted to the question that had been niggling at the back of his mind all day. “So, how did all this come about?”

Bond met his gaze and lifted a single eyebrow. “Remember Georgia?”

_fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: I want to thank Kryptaria and BootsnBlossoms for a line in Bound that in turn inspired the basic premise of this story. I truly could not remember why I had this plot bunny until I was rereading Bound while taking a break from writing. I had thought it was prompted by something mentioned in the comments of an unknown story, so I am glad I know now. I do hope these amazing ladies do not take offense to my brazenness in running with this.
> 
> The line is from Chapter 4 as Bond and Q were on their way to dinner:
> 
> _“Next you’ll get yourself kidnapped and have the gall to escape while we’re still trying to find you.”_
> 
> I also want to thank everyone who read and offered kudos and comments. Your appreciation and support of this tale was/is very much appreciated! Have a great holiday weekend, everyone!

**Author's Note:**

> I welcome podficcing of any of my stories with a request to let me know so I may squee over your efforts and a caveat that the work be linked back to my posted work. Many thanks and kind regards.


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